


Le Bel au Bois Dormant

by celeste9



Series: Fairy Tales [1]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Crack, Established Relationship, Fairy Tales, Forests, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Magical Accidents, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That..." Becker struggled to even form words, pointing vaguely in Lyle's direction. "<i>That</i> is not my true love. I don't believe I even have a fucking true love, but if I did, it would most certainly not be that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Le Bel au Bois Dormant

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope Bingo, 'kiss to save the day'. Beta by fififolle, Lyle, Ditzy, and Blade borrowed from fredbassett. The title is a bastardization of the French title for Sleeping Beauty.
> 
> ETA: Now with gorgeous cover art from clea2011!

[ ](http://s362.photobucket.com/user/ceteste9/media/f68341e6-daa2-408b-8c8e-03dd529a6e8d_zps6557d9d9.png.html)

Something went seriously wrong with the universe the day he arrived at the ARC. That was the only possible explanation for this, Becker decided as he steeled himself to kiss Jon Lyle.

_Earlier That Day…_

On the other side of the anomaly lay a dark forest. The foliage was so dense you couldn’t see even a glimmer of sky and though it wasn’t quite noon, it was nearly as black as night.

“Creepy,” Lyle said in a decidedly cheerful tone, and started walking.

“This is a terrible idea,” Becker said.

“Your disapproval is noted,” Cutter said and proceeded to thoroughly ignore Becker, traipsing through the woods with Stephen.

Stephen glanced back long enough to grin at Becker and say, “Back in a tick, you’ll see!”

Becker held himself back from flipping Stephen off and instead regarded the woods, his Mossberg resting against his shoulder. His footsteps crunched across the forest floor and, for whatever reason, he found his mind drifting to memories of his mother reading fairy tales. That’s what this reminded him of, Snow White being chased by the huntsman or Hansel and Gretel losing their trail of breadcrumbs.

Which was silly, honestly. It was a forest.

“Maybe you shouldn’t touch anything,” Becker suggested, watching Lyle circle a giant of a tree and trail his fingers on the bark.

Lyle smirked at him. “Worried for my safety, sweetie?”

“Fine, touch whatever the hell you want, see if I care.” Becker turned his back to Lyle and moved farther into the woods, scanning the area. It was all too quiet, not so much as the sound of birdsong to break the silence. It was… eerie.

Becker turned around again at Lyle’s muttered, “Ow.”

“What did you do? You touched something, didn’t you? Damn it, Lyle.”

Lyle was staring rather intently at his upheld finger, a dot of blood swelling at the tip.

Suddenly, without warning, Lyle fell into what looked like a dead faint, crumpling to the ground.

Becker covered the distance between them in a few quick, long strides, kneeling next to Lyle. “Lyle, damn it,” he said. Lyle’s pulse was still fluttering at his neck, steady, and he was breathing low and even, just like he was asleep.

“Ditzy, get your arse over here right now,” Becker said into the radio, quickly relaying their location.

Fifteen minutes later, Lyle was still unconscious and they were no closer to figuring out what had happened.

“I wasn’t looking at him,” Becker explained for what felt like the hundredth time. It was probably more like the second time, to be fair. “He pricked his finger on something and my guess is that tree.”

The tree Becker indicated seemed the likely culprit due not only to its location, but also because of the long, nasty-looking thorns growing on the vines that climbed the length of it. Ditzy had taken a clipping for analysis.

“Then he swooned like a girl,” Becker added. Because he had.

“Okay, well, we’d best move him,” Ditzy said. “He’s got no outward injuries and he’ll be safer back at the ARC.”

-

Unfortunately, returning to the ARC didn’t get them any closer to figuring out what had happened to Lyle. He was on a bed in the medical bay, still looking as though he was merely asleep.

“I’m telling you, there is nothing wrong with him,” Ditzy was saying.

“Except that he’s in a coma,” Becker pointed out.

Ditzy seemed to sag slightly as he exhaled. “Except that he’s in a coma,” he agreed.

“Anything on the plant yet?” Ryan asked, having been filled in on the day’s events.

“Not yet, but I’ll know as soon as the lab knows anything.”

Though Ryan had a reputation (a well-deserved one, going by the reports of what he’d dealt with) for unflappability, his blue eyes still looked troubled when they rested on Lyle. Becker remembered that Lyle was Ryan’s best mate. It was probably killing him to have nothing solid to go on, and nothing to do to help.

“Becker, I think you should return to the anomaly and meet up with the team,” he said.

Becker nodded. “I don’t trust Cutter anyway. God knows what he’s doing without supervision.”

Ryan forced a smile. “I doubt Blade would let him get away with shit, but I see your point. See if you can find something, anything that will shed some light on what’s happened.”

“I will, sir,” Becker said, hesitating only slightly when his eyes settled on Lyle, quiet and still. He marched out of the room, glad to have a task to set himself to. Ryan wasn’t the only one who didn’t like feeling useless.

-

“It’s an enchanted forest if ever I saw one,” Connor was saying as Becker approached the glowing anomaly.

“Because you’ve seen one before?” Abby asked, eyes shining with amusement.

“Well, no, obviously, but... You saw it in there, Abby, it was creepy! And now Lyle’s pricked his finger and fallen asleep. You can’t tell me that doesn’t remind you of something.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to say Sleeping Beauty,” Becker said, joining their conversation. “Or, actually, Lyle as Sleeping Beauty is fucking hilarious, so do go on.”

Both Connor and Abby were looking at him like they weren’t sure what to make of him, if he was being serious or if they were expected to laugh.

Becker resisted the urge to sigh. “I take it you didn’t find anything useful?”

Abby shook her head. “No, but Cutter and Stephen went much farther in than us, they’re in there with Blade still.”

“All right, stay put. I’ll see if I can meet up with them.”

Before Becker could even take a step towards the anomaly, however, Cutter, Stephen, and Blade all came bursting through. Blade and Stephen both had their guns drawn, aiming back into the anomaly even as they ran through, and all three were bleeding in several places from small wounds.

Becker had his own gun up and pointed as he said, “What the hell happened?”

“Birds,” Blade said shortly, glaring into the shards of light. Nothing had followed them through.

“Birds?”

“Flock of crows,” Stephen explained. “Or maybe ravens, we didn’t get a good look at them. They attacked us.”

“So we’ve gone from fairy tales to Alfred Hitchcock now?”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t be joking if you’d been there.”

“Perhaps joking is how I deal with all of this crazy shit,” Becker said and only just stopped himself from following Stephen’s example and rolling his eyes when he saw how everyone’s gazes turned curiously to him. Well, bugger, he’d been at the ARC for months now, was he really still that much of a puzzle? Perhaps he should be proud. “Just tell me what happened.”

“We found a castle,” Cutter said. “Enormous thing, beautiful, really, up on a hill. The forest grew right up to it, overgrown, and the walls were covered in some sort of ivy, but… thick, the vines were so thick.”

“Completely covered,” Stephen added. “We couldn’t even make out the entrance.”

They both stopped and looked at each other, seemingly at a loss, until Blade cut in, “There was a dragon.”

Becker stared. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to be funny?”

“No, there was a sodding dragon,” Stephen said. “Asleep at the foot of the castle.”

“We were still figuring out what to do when the birds came,” Cutter went on. “Out of bloody nowhere and they just swooped in, diving at our heads. We ran the rest of the way.”

No one spoke. Becker was contemplating the possibility of mass hysteria.

“Still think the Sleeping Beauty jokes are funny?” Connor asked.

-

No one was allowed back through the anomaly without clearance from either Becker or Ryan. With Becker’s luck, the next person would end up turned into a frog or something.

Stephen had taken cuttings from some more of the plants they’d encountered. The lab was unable to identify any of it, nor Lyle’s tree. Becker was not inclined to accept the possibility they’d discovered a forest filled with previously undiscovered plant life in addition to a giant winged lizard (he wasn’t accepting the claim it was a dragon, he wasn’t) but then, he didn’t care for Connor’s assertion that it was some sort of a parallel world, either.

They had all congregated around Lyle’s bed in the medical bay, trying to decide how to proceed. Becker started to tune out most of the chatter, as listening to Cutter and Connor debate the possibility of having discovered a portal into an entirely different world wasn’t exactly something he wanted to think about. He knew it was bad when Claudia and Stephen, who tended to be the most sensible of the lot, seemed to be taking the discussion entirely seriously.

Becker was watching Lyle. It was odd to see him so still. Lyle was always moving, always doing something, and definitely always running his mouth. Even when he slept, he tossed around a bit, he stole the blankets no matter how many times Becker retrieved them, he attached himself to Becker like a limpet. Sometimes he talked in his sleep and sometimes he made these little snorting sounds.

Lyle never lay as immobile and silent as a statue. He never looked like this. Becker didn’t like it.

“Becker should kiss him,” Connor said.

“Becker should _what_?” Becker said, snapping back into the conversation.

“Kiss him,” Connor repeated. “That’s how these things work. Sleeping Beauty, Snow White…” He trailed off, looking to Abby as if for back-up.

Abby started. “Er… the Frog Prince?” She shrugged helplessly at Connor.

Becker looked down his nose at them. “Last time I checked, I lived in England, not fairy tale land.”

“How do you explain the inexplicable coma then?”

“Or the dragon,” Cutter muttered.

“Leaving aside the absolute idiocy of thinking a kiss will bring a man out of a coma, why does it have to be me?” Becker asked. He felt it was a perfectly reasonable inquiry.

“Did your mother never read you any bedtime stories? It can’t be just anyone doing the kissing, it’s about true love.” Connor sounded distressingly earnest.

“That…” Becker struggled to even form words, pointing vaguely in Lyle’s direction. “ _That_ is not my true love. I don’t believe I even have a fucking true love, but if I did, it would most certainly not be that.”

“He’s a ‘him’, you know, not a ‘that’. He even has a name,” Ryan said, looking amused.

“His name should be ‘pain in my arse’,” Becker muttered and then, faintly horrified, added, “If anyone says it I will shoot them.”

“No one’s touching that one, lad, believe me,” Cutter said, sounding slightly choked, though Ryan at least looked as though he’d been thinking about it.

“I think Connor’s on to something,” Ditzy spoke up. “There is absolutely nothing physically wrong with Lyle; there is no medical diagnosis I can make.”

Becker gaped at Ditzy, feeling betrayed. “You’re meant to be a health professional! You can’t seriously be advocating kissing as a cure for comas.”

Ditzy only shrugged. “I’ve seen some weird shit since I came here. Honestly this really doesn’t feel all that surprising.”

“Have you got a better idea?” Stephen asked, standing quietly off in the background.

“No, but…” Becker glanced around at them all in turn, helplessly. “Christ, you can’t be actually considering this! Aren’t you meant to be the practical one, Hart?”

Stephen didn’t say anything, though the corners of his mouth were threatening to uplift into a tiny smirk. Well, at least someone found this whole thing entertaining.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Becker said in a last-ditch attempt to stop this insanity. “Let’s say you’re right, let’s say a kiss does the trick. I’m not in love with Lyle! I don’t know how else to put this. We have some fun sometimes, that’s all.”

Claudia said, “You’re the closet thing we’ve got, Becker.”

Becker turned his gaze towards her, meeting her serious brown eyes.

“Lyle doesn’t have anyone but you. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re important to him. You mean something to each other and that’s what will matter.”

The room felt suddenly stifling, too full of people and too restricting. Becker tugged at his collar, feeling like he needed to get out, like he needed air, like he was going to explode. He could feel himself sweating, like the thermostat had been turned way up. “Lyle means something to Ryan. Let Ryan kiss him.”

Ryan’s features had gone tight and furious, any previous amusement utterly erased. “You think I fucking won’t? I’ll kiss him with tongue if it might wake him up! Jesus Christ, Becker, I thought you were better than this.”

“Clearly I’m not,” Becker hissed. “I’m the same shit replacement I’ve always been so just… just do whatever the hell you want, you don’t need me.”

He stormed out of the room, practically seeing red, and not even sure why he was so angry. The whole thing was stupid, it was stupid. People didn’t wake up from comas because you kissed them and anyway, Becker was nobody’s hero. Least of all Lyle’s.

So they fucked sometimes, that didn’t mean anything. He no longer spent every second wanting to punch Lyle in the face (only most of them) but that didn’t mean he suddenly _loved_ Lyle. It was a convenient arrangement and nothing more.

Let them all take turns kissing the bastard and see what happened. Somehow, Becker knew that that was exactly what was going on. He wondered how far they’d take it, if they’d bring all the lads in, one by one, if they’d pull the scientists from the labs. He wondered if Lester would have a go and felt a pang of regret that he would miss the expression on Lester’s face if and when the subject was broached.

When Ditzy found him, leaning in a corner in a corridor, Becker didn’t need to be told it hadn’t worked. Lyle was still asleep. He didn’t know if that made him feel worse or better. He didn’t want to think about why that was even an issue.

Ditzy rested his back against the wall near Becker and said, “Well, we’ve all tried. It didn’t work.”

“So I suppose you want me to try now.”

“You are the most likely candidate.”

“I’m not some fucking prince in a fucking fairy tale!” Becker exploded, springing out of the corner to stand up straight in front of Ditzy, so… just so _angry._ “I’m a soldier, I kill people and I curse and I drink and I have meaningless sex and I can’t keep a relationship. I’m not anyone’s fucking prince.”

Ditzy was still regarding him calmly. “Is this about Lyle, or you?”

“I don’t need you to psycho-analyse me, Ditzy.”

“Then get back in that sodding room and kiss your unconscious boyfriend!”

Becker let his gaze rest on Ditzy for several long moments before he spoke. “He isn’t my boyfriend.”

Ditzy swept a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “I don’t care what the fuck he is, but he’s lying there in a coma and you could help him, only you’re too bloody stubborn to do it.”

“I--”

“This isn’t a fairy tale! There isn’t going to be a swelling of music or birds trilling in joyous song or a happily ever after. You’re not marrying him, for fuck’s sake. All you have to do is kiss him, and if there is any justice in this world, he’ll wake up. That’s it.”

Becker turned away, unable to look at Ditzy any more. “Yeah, this isn’t a fairy tale, that’s the whole point. It won’t work! He won’t wake up!”

“Becker, are you upset because you think it’s flawed logic to expect him to wake up or because you think he won’t wake up because of you, particularly?”

“I said I didn’t want your psycho babble,” Becker muttered.

Ditzy’s voice was filled with an unusual harshness. “Frankly, I don’t give a shit what you want. My friend is lying in there and the only person who hasn’t tried to help him is the person he’s shagging. Do you see my problem?”

“I can’t, Ditzy, I…”

Ditzy reached out and pulled at Becker’s arm, forcing him to turn around. “It doesn’t matter if you love him, or if you don’t, and no one cares if you do or not. If you cared one tiny bit about him, then you’d do whatever you could to help him. It’s that simple.”

Just like that, Becker knew that Ditzy was right. It didn’t matter what he felt. Lyle was a man, he was a man in Becker’s command, he was a man Becker reluctantly had to admit he thought of as a friend. Becker wouldn’t leave a stranger if there was a chance he could help them, so he damned well wasn’t going to leave Lyle because of something as stupid as his… his pride, or whatever else was going on in his head.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll try.”

Ditzy’s smile was small and grateful and relieved. “Okay.”

When they arrived, the medical bay was still uncommonly crowded with healthy people. Becker tried not to feel like he was getting stage fright at the idea of kissing Lyle in front of an audience.

“How kind of you to grace us with your presence, Captain,” Lester said, making Becker seriously consider if even _Lester_ of all people had tried this mad idea before Becker had. Though he may have just been there for the entertainment. Actually, that seemed more likely. “Now do get on with it, I have work to be doing.”

“Don’t let me keep you, sir,” Becker said in the politest tone he could manage. “I wasn’t aware you had such a personal stake in this. Perhaps you might like to kiss the lieutenant instead?”

One eyebrow lifted. “Oh, no, do go ahead, Captain. I’ve never fancied myself in the role of the other woman.”

“Ah, a voyeur, then,” Becker said, and approached the bed.

His heart was racing and he couldn’t think about it, he couldn’t think about what it would mean if this worked, if it even meant anything. He couldn’t think about the possibility it _wouldn’t_ work.

Becker leaned over the bed, pausing close enough to feel the light puffing of Lyle’s breath against his face. It was nothing, it was just a kiss, he’d done this countless times before. Just a kiss and he could maybe save someone. Lyle. Not just someone, Lyle. Becker pressed his lips to Lyle’s.

Nothing happened.

Becker stayed there, Lyle’s lips soft and unmoving, and he thought, _shit, shit, it didn’t work, what do I do now, it wasn’t me, I couldn’t help him, I’m not--_

And then he felt Lyle’s lips part, felt the intake of his breath, felt Lyle’s hand at the back of his neck.

Becker was so relieved he almost over-balanced. He kissed Lyle again, properly, forgetting even that he had an audience, feeling happier than he could account for.

“Hello, darling,” Lyle murmured against Becker’s mouth, stretching the words out. “You’re certainly pleased to see me.”

Becker straightened and tried to remember why leaving Lyle unconscious had been a bad idea. “I told you not to touch anything.”

“You know I never listen to you.” Lyle’s mouth curved wickedly. “Well, sometimes I do. In private.”

Becker felt himself start to blush. “I really hate you, you know?”

“Now, clearly that isn’t true, my beloved prince.”

Someone snorted laughter behind them - multiple someones, probably - and Becker moved farther back from the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was a… a physical thing,” he started saying, the words tumbling out. “Right? I mean, it wouldn’t have worked otherwise, and I’m sure that’s it, a… a physical connection, because surely Ryan likes you better than I do, and--”

He didn’t stop rambling until Claudia placed her hand on his shoulder, gently. “Stop fretting,” she said. “Lyle woke up because you helped him, and that’s the only thing that matters.”

Becker nodded, pressing his lips together and staring at the floor. He wished everyone would stop staring at him.

Ditzy had moved over to Lyle, checking his blood pressure and such, and he announced, “Well, you’re perfectly healthy as far as I can see.”

“So let me get this straight,” Lyle addressed the room at large. “I remember pricking my finger on that thorn, and I remember falling asleep, and then I remember Becker kissing me when I woke up. It was fucking magic, yeah? We went through that anomaly into fairy tale land or something?”

Cutter exchanged a glance with Ryan and said, “We haven’t quite been able to explain what we witnessed.”

“It certainly seems as though Becker woke you up with a kiss, though,” Ryan added, smirking in Becker’s direction. “He tried last.”

“You all took turns kissing me?” Lyle pouted. “Shame I can’t remember it. Even you, sir?” he said, turning to Lester and fluttering his eyelashes.

“Only in your most treasured fantasies, Lieutenant,” Lester replied.

“You tease,” Lyle said, grinning. He stood up from the bed and went straight to Becker, looping his arms around Becker’s neck.

Becker was somewhat ashamed of the way his hands settled automatically at Lyle’s waist. “Something else you wanted? Me saving your arse wasn’t enough for you?”

“Can’t I just bask in the warmth of my hero?”

“Maybe later,” Becker said, quieter, and pushed Lyle away. He was all too conscious of the eyes on him and he was starting to get that stifling feeling again, like he might hyperventilate. “I’m going to, er… There’s probably guns that need cleaning, or something.”

He fled the room, expecting to be followed, but no one came after him. Even though he knew perfectly well all the guns were put away, he ended up in the armoury anyway. Nowhere else in the ARC made him feel more relaxed than the armoury.

Becker sat down on the floor, surrounded by the guns, breathing in the scent of metal and gun oil. He closed his eyes and counted in his head, breathing slowly in and out until he felt more himself, until the world fell away.

It wasn’t until he heard the sound of the door that he opened his eyes.

Lyle came in, slouching casually against the wall. “Colour me surprised. I thought you’d be in here cuddling your Mossberg like a teddy bear.”

“Shouldn’t you be in the medical bay?”

“You heard Ditzy, I’ve got a clean bill of health. No more mystical comas for me. Thanks to you.”

He sounded sincere and Becker glanced away. “Yeah. I suppose so.” He wondered why Lyle hadn’t asked why Becker had kissed him last, after everyone else had tried. He wondered why Lyle wasn’t angry.

“Everyone's going home. You want to come over to mine?”

Becker let his eyes fall back on Lyle. “What for?”

Lyle shrugged. “Dunno. The same reason you always come over?”

“Lyle, I’m not--”

“Not what? In love with me?”

Becker bit his lip.

“Well, I’m not in love with you either, so, sorry, hope I haven’t crushed you or anything. Want to come over to mine?”

Inexplicably, Becker laughed. It was like the ridiculousness of the situation, of the whole entire day, suddenly hit him all at once and he couldn’t stop laughing. His… his sort of friend with benefits had gone into a magical coma that could only be broken by a kiss. From Becker. And now here they were, in the armoury, discussing whether or not they should have a beer and a shag later.

Had he seriously been angsting over this? It was _ridiculous._

Lyle wasn’t laughing, but his hazel eyes were twinkling and he certainly seemed to be enjoying the sight of Becker’s merriment. “Hey, should I be offended?”

“No,” Becker said, shaking his head and trying to regain some measure of control. “No, it’s just… Okay, yeah. I’ll come over. Someone had better make sure you don’t go pricking yourself on stray spindles or anything.”

Lyle cracked a smile. “Like I said, my hero.” He snapped his fingers. “Now I know what to get you for your birthday! A sword. If you’re going to go round saving poor damsels like me, you should at least look the part.”

Becker got to his feet and feathered a kiss to Lyle’s mouth. “Always thought I’d look dashing with a sword. Plus, you know, we should probably match, considering you’re my true love and everything.”

“Two swords?” Lyle’s eyes widened like he was already imagining the sort of damage he could do with a sword.

“Nah.” Becker grinned. “I’ll get you a tiara, princess.”

**_End_ **


End file.
